Jaskel had the bed tilted up in the back, so he could sit upright. Next to him was Xulrek, who was eating jello and listening, like Jaskel, to Gunny Zolpad tell a story involving two Rigellian females, a Putimat stripper with one leg, and a box of NeverMelt™ ice cream stolen from the Treana'ad chow hall.
The Gunny seemed to have an endless store of all kinds of misadventures, most of which started with "so, we were drunk as fuck, right..." and ended with "end that's how we ended up in the cell at the MP station."
Jaskel actually smiled as the story reached the part where the half-naked Putimat stripper stole the Gunny's brand new (to him) used Mustang Jackalope CXL that he had just gotten (with a low APR of 62.5% and 1800 easy payments) and left him standing there with her (stolen) cybernetic leg right as the MPs pulled up.
The Gunny was talking about how he'd jumped out of the MP car at 50 feet and ran into the woods without his pants and only one boot when it happened.
The lights cut out.
The medical equipment went dead.
Jaskel felt his datalink crash and saw static shoot across his vision as cyberware pumped out gibberish and then crashed.
"Up, get up!" the Gunny yelled, rolling out of his bed.
Jaskel followed, managing to get to his feet and yank Xulrek out of his bunk.
The emergency lights clacked on, the medical equipment started to whine.
Hetrik got caught half out of the bed and screamed as the pressor beams caught him and snapped his leg.
The Gunny grabbed Hetrik, pulling him up.
"They're here," the Gunny said.
"What? How do you know?" Xulrek asked.
"Same thing happened to our suits right before we jumped to hyperspace. Suit and cyberware crashed," Jaskel said.
"Bingo bango," the Gunny said. He pulled Hetrik with him as he moved to the corridor. The doors had all opened as power went out.
Standard in civilian stations and the exact opposite of military stations. Civilian stations relied on the vacuum sensors to close the doors and maintain atmospheric integrity. Military stations went "LOL, you're stuck here now, suckers!"
A Marine hustled by and the Gunny waved at him.
"What?" the Marine asked. He was a short Puntimat.
"Your armor locker. It got Telkan suits?" the Gunny asked.
The Puntimat squinted a second, then nodded. "Yeah."
"We're Telkan Marines, you've got Mar-gite incoming," the Gunny said. "A whole shitload of them. Where's greenie medical?"
"On the way to the armory," the Marine said. He looked around, dug in his pocket, and handed an inhaler to the Gunny. "It's dorph. Give him a hit," he nodded at the sobbing Hetrik.
The Gunny didn't say anything, just shook it and put it up to Hetrik's nose, squirting twice. He went to hand it back and the Puntimat waved it away. "Got more in my armor's kit," he looked at Hetrik again. "When we get to the morgue, I'll do his leg."
The Gunny nodded, still half-dragging Hetrik.
"You OK?" Jaskel asked Xulrek. Xulrek nodded, cradling his arm that was wrapped in burn dressing.
"Just get me in a suit," Xulrek said from between gritted teeth.
"Oohrah," Jaskel replied.
"Here," the Marine said. He looked at Hetrik. "Lemme take him. I'll get him to the morgue and work on his leg."
The Gunny nodded, transferring Hetrik's arm to the Confed Marine.
Jaskel moved in, yelling. "8814!" he called out. "Buddy!"
"here" came the grinding speech that was so difficult for the green mantids. There was a half dozen greenies gathered up in a small huddle in the middle of the room and a single bladearm raised up.
Everyone rushed in, kneeling down and letting their greenie get on their shoulder. The Gunny carried 7391, Hetrik's greenie, who was missing an antenna and still had medgoo on his empty eye socket.
The group rushed down the hallway, catching up to the Confed Marine right as he slowed down to go into a room.
"In here," the Marine said.
Inside was complete confusion. Three Treana'ad warrior caste had sledge hammers while there were others holding flat end prybars against the arms locker door. The three Treana'ad were beating on the prybars, sinking them further and further in between the wall and the heavy armored door.
Jaskel noted that the wall was what was giving it up.
"Almost through!" one called out, stepping back and handing the sledge hammer to another Treana'ad.
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The Marine carrying Hetrik set him down, moving over to a locker that someone had already wrenched open with a prybar. He grabbed out a medic's pack.
"Is Resist here yet, Captain?" the Marine called out.
"Over here," came a buzzing voice. The three foot tall mantid rushed through the group, narrowly avoiding getting hipchecked by a Lanaktallan.
"Broken leg, femoral is intact," he said. He ripped open the pack and set to work. "He's gotta be able to use a suit."
"We could amputate. He can regrow after," the russet mantid said.
"Don't cut off my leg!" Hetrik said.
"It is a perfectly servicable option," the russet said, moving forward and sharpening her bladearms on each other.
"Not for me!" Hetrik jerked back slightly, lifting himself up on his palms and trying to scoot back.
"We'll do autodeploying implants, quikheal bone injections, then wrap his leg in a pressure sleeve," the Marine said. He looked at the Telkan Marine. "Relax. It'll hurt a lot."
Hetrik cursed.
"Hold him down," the Marine said, holding his hands toward the edge of the gloves, that looked like five plastic rings close together. The gloves slithered over his hands with a hiss.
Jaskel pushed Hetrik down and looked down at him. The Marine was pulling out gear and the Mantid was sorting it quickly.
"Dude, you're naked," Hetrik said. "Don't put your balls on my forehead."
"Just look in my eyes. This is going to hurt," Jaskel said.
Hetrik nodded.
The Marine wrapped a band around Hetrik's upper thigh and then right above his knee, shifted Hetrik's leg while the Telkan cursed, then hit a stud. The device suddenly lengthened, straightening Hetrik's leg.
Hetrik stared at Jaskel, reaching up and grabbing Hetrik's forearms and squeezing, his eyes going wide and his pupils contracting.
"Autdeploy surgical implant one," the Marine said.
The russet Mantid slapped it into his hand. The Marine set it just above the knee.
And shoved it into Hetrik's leg.
Hetrik started panting, his eyes going wider, his pupils like pinpricks.
"I got you, Marine, I got you," Jaskel said.
The Puntimat Marine repeated it five more times, then six injections, then wrapped the leg with cloth that steamed and went rigid.
"Be glad you got that hit of dorph or you'd still be screaming," the Marine said.
There was a shout of victory, a couple people yelled "HEADS UP!" and there was a loud boom that shook the floor.
The emergency lights went out, came on, went out, then came on again. Jaskel managed not to throw up as his mastoid implant threw static through his head.
"You twelve! You! Telkans!" a big Treana'ad yelled. "Gunny! You! Telkan!"
"Yes, sir?" Gunny Zolpad asked, moving over.
"We got Telkan suits. Old Second Mar-gite War suits, but we've got them," the Treana'ad said. "Are you with one of the ships?"
"No, sir. Hyperspace accident," Gunny Zolpad said.
"You're those guys," the Treana'ad said. He nodded. "Get your men into the suits, I'll task you into Echo Company. Get me up to speed on your guys skills while my men get into armor and try to figure out what's happening."
"Mar-gite just came in system," the Gunny said. He looked around. "We saw it earlier. They jump in and right in the middle of them coming in, there's a bright white flash and everything crashes. Suits, ships, cyberware, everything."
"Dammit," the Treana'ad said. "YOU HEARD THE MAN! MAR-GITE ARE COMING! GET RACKED GET RACKED GET RACKED!"
Jaskel helped Hetrik sit up.
"We're screwed again, aren't we?" Hetrik asked as Jaskel pulled him to his feet.
"Just another day in the Corps," Jaskel grinned.
"At least we aren't left holding the stripper's leg," Hetrik grinned back.
"Get in line, Marines. Single file, heavy gunners first, assault next, rifleman third, any scouts last," Gunny Zolpad said.
Jaskel hurried up, getting in line behind two other Telkan. One he recognized from Kilo Company, one of their heavy gunners. The line moved forward, past the damaged wall where the Confed Marine's efforts had broken open the armory door.
Jaskel had never seen suits live in the charging stations. There was a Puntimat dressed only in a shirt that said "Enemy Target - Sponsored by Terran Marine Corps" on it, with a Treana'ad smokestick in his mouth and a toolkit hanging around his neck.
"Telkan heavy assault Marine," Jaskel said.
"That one," the Puntimat said, jabbing his cigarette at a dusty looking suit.
Instead of the glossy black of the Telkan Marine suits, this one was bulky, the plates angular, with spikes everywhere.
It was also gray.
8814 jumped from his shoulder to the runner and moved around to the back. Jaskel waited a moment.
The suit jerked slightly as 8814 brought it online. He turned around, facing away, took a deep breath, and stepped back.
The suit folded up around him.
For a second he felt the old claustrophobia grab him.
Then the control jack slid into the socket at the base of his skull, whirring as it locked in.
The suit went live.
--suit older than daxins claning balls-- 8814 said.
"How old?" Jaskel said, trying to remember the differences in the suit types.
--Helreginn, Mark II-- 8814 said.
"Helreginn? What suit is that?" he asked.
--six thousand years old-- 8814 answered. --wow still top shape--
"Give me the differences," Jaskel said, still trying to wrap his head around the fact he was in a suit that was older than the city he had grown up in.
8814 ran it down. Stronger, slightly slower, more armor, anti-Mar-gite spikes, larger bore rocket launcher in a spiral 8-pack rather than the box-4 pack, rapid fire belt fed grenade launcher, double-thick battlescreens, built in force shield on the left arm, force blade built in on the right fist. Stronger, longer endurance, the reactor capable of triple output, self-repairing armor. Built in grav anchors.
The downsides? Slower on the walk/run, faster on the reflexes, computer was bare bones, hands were too big to carry a standard rifle, had to go with a mag pistol.
He was handed a heavy magnetic acellerator submachine gun, another force blade hilt, a chainsword, a rocket pack, and a M318 20mm single barrel autocannon with quad ammo forges.
"Next!" the armorer yelled, pulling on his vac-suit boots.
--take me time to get used to this clunker-- 8814 said.
"Can't be helped," Jaskel said.
"This way, Marines! Echo Company, over here!" Gunny Zolpad was calling out from where he was standing next to a Lanaktallan.
The Lanaktallan showed an icon of pleasure on his face plate.
"We were wise indeed to keep those old suits. Better to have and not need than to need and not have," the Lanaktallan Captain said.
"Yes, sir," Gunny Zolpad said.
"I want your men built into a rapid response team to back up Alpha and Bravo Companies," the Lanaktallan said. He made an odd noise. "Only problem with the suit is I can't smoke in it."
Jaskel frowned. The idea of a Lanaktallan using Treana'ad smoke sticks was weird.
"Lieutenant Weerling will be with you. He's only been here two years, no combat drops, try to keep him alive till his balls drop," the Lanaktallan said. He turned and yelled. "WEERLING! GET OVER HERE!"
A Pukan rushed up in Confed Marine armor.
"Stick with the Gunny, try not to get your fool head eaten by a Mar-gite," the Lanaktallan said.
"Aye, sir," the Pukan said.
The Lanaktallan just clopped over to a different group.
The Gunny turned and looked at the Telkan gathered up around him.
"The Mar-gite are in the system. They're evacuating the station," he said. He flashed an icon of a grinning Telkan on his helmet.
"We don't know where we are. We don't know what we're going to do. We barely know who we are," he said. "We only know who the enemy is but we don't know how many of them there are."
"ALL WE KNOW IS WE MUST KILL!" the Telkan yelled out.
"OORAH!" the Confed Marines yelled back.
"Let's go defend the station," the Gunny said, waving his hand.